sorry, i'm too tired to write anything, perhaps you'd like to see my cat instead

he's a 10 but he's a 9, a 11, a 14, a 7, he's the topology of a shimmering self-permuting number line, he's the possibility-space of all equations

a minor god ascends in the pantheon by advocating that cintāmaṇis, magic lamps, and wishing-wells be allowed to fulfill their own wishes

you're my pizza curler, my fork. my marmalade pahoehoe wavefunction. my lsd multiverse simulation of different possible maths flowing through me

the god's thumbprints marked the princess's face, each blooming into question marks, becoming ? blocks that yield stars/treasure/flowers

other gempills are more popular, but sapphire drops give me the focus to sprout jellyfish tendrils and blow bubbles through my eyeballs

you're in her dms. she's in her dms, droste'd along in fractal recursions, each self messaging another self in an infinite borgesian library of dms

everyone is a combination mirror-touch synesthesia, stockholm syndrome, enmeshment, and delusional parasitosis to someone

brahma is the most relatable god because of how he delusionally believes he's both a creator god and alone in the universe

let's gaze at the same bright moon. let's smear our arms with guava jellies and dance a malambo simultaneously too. wow. i feel so connected

you can wave a banana in front of your face to simulate a tracer effect. you can inhale its volatile esters and enter a banana tropicalia. truly a fascinating psychotechnology

you *are* built different. there are dodecahedron-shaped chromosomes attached to your dna helix, each one encrusted with emeralds, rose quartz, and faberge eggs

i have odd skin pigmentation resembling lichtenberg figures or turing patterns. photodamage, perhaps. or perhaps the miniature gods that dance under my skin

be not afraid: seraphim aren't real. ancient witnesses saw polycephalic angels interlocked at the halo, archangels riddled with tumors, ophanim with parasitic twins

bay area techno-buddhists report refining the tibetan golden flower of the soul into a superfluid xenon soul-flower, achieving frictionless supersatori

wikihow to want things for yourself

once i fix my migraines and sleep issues and develop the ability to sustain desire, it'll be over for you

head to the dream bunkers. there's an oneirowarning- tulpas, egregores, and harlequin archetypes are prowling the streets like ancient megafauna

the storm god is drunk. "i'll give them rain like haeckel forms. i'll put the lightning in the thunder and shake them together like a cocktail to make a Lunder"

the goddess's death lasts forever. she's an underworld monument, famed for her jeweled maggots, indigo skin, and slow drip of ichorous pus

you vanish entirely into your online life, because the world is more beautiful in 2 dimensions. you like yourself in pixels and the pure language of symbols

a strange feature of this site is that no one has ever unfollowed me. on twitter, it was expected that people would occasionally unfollow you

the merchant sells potable lightning, artisanal hand-rolled fireballs, fresh void by the scoop. "but they're just impossible phase alterations," you mutter

the atolls are great for angel sightings: angels full of green stars, luminescent angels slopping seawards at low tide, and, predawn, emerald-headed angels emerge

the living crystals of the fae-caverns are empathogenic-entactogenic. to eat them is soul-aching remorse, you grieve what you consume even as addiction deepens

toynbee-style tiles saying "nirvana shockwave vacuum phase transition, 500 million days of heaven every year. tile the universe with qualia icecream sundaes"

your heaven-kitten zooms around the samsara-wheel at 3 am, coughing up transcendental jewels while mewing om mani padme mew

do you feel betrayed by god? suffering a deep spiritual death, forced to hate even though you yearn to love? that's wild, have you tried yoga?

o! i burn, i shiver, i froth with encephalitis to think upon thee! i prostrate myself upon your cauliflowers, i bring thee rosary beads and pieces of green velvet

i've seen pearls in pond scum, bronze statues rotting into emerald green, the rust on tin flowerpots blooming into life. so perhaps beauty could spring from my psyche too

you can tell a lot about someone by what cursed objects (frogs, pupa, emberstones, purple gems, etc.) tumble from their mouth as they speak

i'm looking for "through a mirror, dankly". you got any dank mirror, maybe crusted with trichomes or floating in a golden bong-cloud?

her collection of buddhautomata: a self-winding wish jewel, mandala-men spinning through mudras, and matryoshka lotuses with interlocking petals

i'm analyzing your replies to formulate a comprehensive theory of replying

the first perpetual motion machine was the seraph-wheel: a blasphemous circuit of interchained angels whose writhing powered humanity's early starships

is that a banana in your pocket? sorry, i suffer from bananaeidolia, a peculiar apophenia that produces false banana positives

the quest for love that lasts should have been included among the search for chrysopoeia, rebis, prima materia, and the universal solvent

for light-deities, the emission theory of vision holds. their eyes are electromagnetic organs, pursuit-tracking creates light beams, each saccade is a photon

this song might be in the same family

neurologically linked to visual snow is linguistic snow: persistent grapheme afterimages, phonemes that buzz like tinnitus, a phantom braille crawling across your skin

thlyaggledorf, also known as the Sane God, is commonly depicted holding a platter of cheese, befuddled, and surrounded by a retinue of celestial hedgehogs

sarah became both godheaded and lotus-eyed at last night's party, tried to flirt with the divine feminine, and coughed up mandelbrot sets into her hair

her mind is sea-green churning into forest-green, but she's willing to meet you in a neutral qualia-space like turquoise or chartreuse

at the quintessence-markets, artisans sell trapezoids dipped in galangal oil, 7s pressed into homemade soaps, blue folded into origami

bodhisattva superhero initiates choose between cherry-blossom-blizzard-vortex, brahma-voice, prajñā slash, and hell-descent

left unoccupied for too long, the mind synthesizes novel mental states. some report attaining lucid confusion, transcendental omphaloskepsis, or revolted saudade

the florid migraine changed into a floral migraine, with bougainvillea vines tangling your neurons, orchids that throb, and unfolding eyesocket petals

the difference between ravens and crows is that ravens have luna-essence and can transmute into the moon, whereas crows only erupt into golden suns

you can cry designer tears. we offer anti-gravity drops, dirgewater, prismatic glittersobs, insertable palm-eyeballs for artistic hand-weeping